By Jim Norman

Copyright nintendolife

It was approximately 30 seconds after I’d buckled in for my flight to Greece that I smugly turned on my Switch 2 with the knowledge that I would have four hours of uninterrupted Silksong time ahead of me; then I realised my headphones were out of charge.

It’s no big deal, right? I’ll be able to play just fine with the sound off, I told myself. Sure, I’d miss out on all of Pharloom’s wonderful sound cues, Christopher Larkin’s staggering score, and arguably be at a disadvantage for just about every enemy encounter going forward, but it’s not the end of the world…

Reader, at the time, it was the end of the world.

I was on this plane on 5th September, a mere 24 hours after finally getting my hands on Silksong — one of my most-anticipated games ever. I had put maybe three hours into it the day before, but I was saving myself for the big flight because, well, I’m pretty terrified of air travel and there’s nothing like a bit of bug depression to take your mind off being in a pressurised tin can, thousands of feet in the air.

It was for this reason that I decided to bravely soldier and play the damn game regardless. I knew how sound worked in Pharloom at this point, and I knew that it would probably hurt my exploration as a consequence of being without it. But my options were to plough on sans headphones, or read the safety information booklet for the eleventh time and do some breathing exercises.

I returned to my save file and prepared myself for four hours of non-ideal playtime. Three steps into the rainy streets of Greymoor, and all of my stresses dissipated. Why? Because Team Cherry knows how to rumble. HD Rumble, that is.

As my beloved Hornet stepped out from the area’s initial cover and into the downpour, I felt the faint pitter-patter of the drops rumbling in my Joy-Con. Of course, HD Rumble 2 itself is far from news to me — yeah, I paid attention in Switch 2 Welcome Tour — but these raindrops immediately drew my attention to it in a way that I hadn’t noticed it on the console so far.

It wasn’t the big buzz I felt when getting punched by a Pilgrim Groveller or Binding that made me perk up and pay attention to the rumble, but these tiny, inconsequential raindrops. Why? Because I hadn’t even noticed it was raining in the area.

Without the distraction of sound, I suddenly became acutely aware of how HD Rumble 2 was being used to tell me something I might have otherwise missed. It’s easy to tell when a pesky Pharlid is going to pop up from underground once you learn the rumble that announces its arrival. Likewise, that one nasty trap bench in Hunter’s March is far easier avoided if you feel for the click of the spikes before they come swinging down.

Pleasantly pleased with my discovery, I started dashing around Pharloom, taking great joy in the initial BZZT and ensuing mini-bzzts that mark Hornet’s initial boost and subsequent speedy steps. I might have been missing out on the odd map thanks to my inability to hear Shakra’s singing, but I was exploring in a whole new way.

My tactile travels led me to the Chapel of the Beast in Hunters March, where a series of ever-growing vibrations signposted that something very big and very scary was stomping about inside. As all those who have ventured into this area can attest, there is indeed something very big and very scary inside, and I only wish that I had listened to the intensity of the rumble and taken it as a message to steer clear.

Nonetheless, I kept on playing in such a manner, guiding my movements via the rumble. The big boss at the end of Act 1 was a pain in the butt, but my soundless attempts would have taken me days was it not for the gradually-increasing rumble letting me know when an off-screen shock attack was heading my way.

Before I had a chance to feel even more like Aragorn tracking an army of Uruk-hai by placing my palm to the ground and feeling out the footsteps, the plane landed and I packed my Switch away.

I had a lovely holiday, thanks for asking. It was mainly spent reading books in the sun and trying to think about anything other than the dark depths of Pharloom. But, rest assured, I made a point to charge my headphones for the flight back.

There’s no denying it; the Silksong soundscape is fantastic. Larkin’s strings have damn near brought me to tears on several occasions, I grin like a fool whenever I hear Shakra’s “Ooshka-ah-aah-ro, kai-lai-lai-lai, ooshka-ro”, and the singe of heat or chill of cold comes with its own little aural pang that really sells the ‘I need to move right now’. I wouldn’t want to play the game in its entirety without it, but good grief, it’s still a wild ride for those brave enough to reach for the mute button.

So go on, take those headphones out, turn the volume down to zero, or otherwise plug your ears up for a second and take a quick tour around the rumbling roads of Pharloom. Trust me, it’s not a feeling to be missed.

Have you paid attention to Silksong’s sweet rumble yet? Are you as big a fan of it as I am? Let me know in the comments.